Gaze
by MaruneKaite
Summary: Gilbert and Antonio proceeded to look down on the floor to search for the aforementioned object. Francis, however, kept his twinkling blue eyes on the shiny green ones that were now staring back at him. AU FrUK


**Author's note: **Hello! This is a little plot writing of a FrUK doujinshi I'm still planning to make. I just started... that's why it seems short. XD Please tell me what you guys think! It will really help. :) Thank you!

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Hetalia or France, UK, Prussia and Spain. They belong to Hidekaz Himaruya.

Francis yawned into his hand as he stared blankly at his teacher's writings on the blackboard. He had given up taking notes— his hand finding his sleeves more interesting to focus on rather than the babblings of his old balding teacher. Today's lesson was about French history, a beautiful time of the world, Francis thought, but he didn't (couldn't) listen, not because he didn't love his own country's history, but it was that he had heard it plenty of times before and the teacher's muttering didn't do any of it justice.

Trying to stay awake, he turned his head to the window, and decided that the sky had more things to say. No sun could be seen that morning, gray clouds indicating that it might rain later.

The Frenchman sighed. _Great. I forgot my umbrella._

Just as he was about to turn his attention back to the discussion, his eyes caught sight of bright green gems looking his way. He had tried to get a better look of what or _who_ owned those beautiful pair of emeralds but all he could see were his classmates sleeping or daydreaming, and maybe one of them turned away, his light blonde locks sticking out messily on his small head.

Francis shrugged, maybe it was just another trick of the eye.

The bell rang just in time as Francis was closing his notebook, pushing the thought of those lovely eyes at the back of his head. He felt a strong slap on his back as a loud "Time for lunch, Francis!" boomed in his ear. Clutching his ear and bending his arm awkwardly to sooth his aching back, said Frenchman glared at the source of his current problems.

"Gilbert, damn it, please don't do that again," groaned Francis.

"Aw," came the heavily-accented reply from the German, "had a rough day, Francis? That old man bore you to death?"

Francis sighed. He was used to Gilbert's teasing. They both transferred at the same time together with Antonio during their first year of high school. They're in their third year now, but the three of them have been best friends ever since. "French history was so much better when Mr. Roma taught it."

"_Si, si_! Grandfather was really good at teaching history, wasn't he?" a certain Spaniard's head popped in between Francis and Gilbert, chewing what looked like a tomato. They both had to stop themselves from strangling Antonio after he gave them a fright.

Since Gilbert had forgotten his lunch and Antonio had his tomato, Francis agreed that he would share his boxed lunch with them. It was too much of a bother to go down the cafeteria when he could just eat lunch in the classroom. There weren't much people in the classroom anyway, and Francis loved his peace and quiet. Gilbert was an exception.

"Ew, Francis, you actually eat this stuff?" Gilbert threw a disgusted face as he lifted up a piece of lettuce from Francis' salad. "You should totally switch to sausages. They taste much better than this... this... this leaf!" He brought the lettuce back down slowly on the lunch box, eyeing it as if he were mentally battling with an old arch nemesis.

"I don't share your preference of sausages, Gilbert," Francis smirked. "I'm not as gay as you."

Francis nudged Antonio as they both laughed at the now irritated German. Gilbert then stabbed the piece of lettuce he had just mentally fought with and brought it to his mouth, making sure he chewed it in front of them so they could see just how manly he was. This in turn, however, only made them laugh harder.

"Oh yeah?" Gilbert, now red from his manly pride being slightly stepped on, poked Francis with his fork. "I can bet you a week's lunch someone in this room has the hots for you!"

Antonio and Francis stared at Gilbert for a moment then continued their fits of laughter.

It was impossible, Francis thought, they were in an all boys school. Gilbert must be bluffing, he always did. He couldn't help glancing around the classroom though. There was no one here that was taking that much notice of him at all.

"No, I'm serious." Gilbert was now staring intently at his best friends. Antonio and Francis stared back. It was rare for Gilbert to be serious. The last time he was serious was when... well, never.

"So," Antonio started, glancing at Francis. He seemed to be thinking the same thing as the Frenchman and had started to take Gilbert's word for it. "who is it?"

Gilbert's face lit up now that he had both his best friend's attention back on him. He put on his mischievous grin once again, but just as he was about to go on about how he had overheard people talking on his way up to the classroom, someone tapped on his shoulder and said, "You dropped something."

Gilbert and Antonio proceeded to look on the floor to look for the aforementioned object. Francis, however, kept his twinkling blue eyes on the shiny green ones that were now staring back at him.

"This pencil? I don't—" As Gilbert turned around, the person who had tapped him was now swiftly walking towards the classroom door, and in a moment, he was gone. "—own this pencil."

"Let me see that." Francis grabbed the pencil from Gilbert's hand and took a long look at it. It was green in color, looked used but still very clean. Its eraser was already flat on its container, and it had been sharpened quite a number of times so it was already almost half in size.

"I think," Antonio bit innocently from his tomato. "that Arthur dropped it as he was walking away."

"Athur?" Francis turned to look at Antonio, puzzled. "Who is this Arthur?"

"Ohh, so that's who interrupted my awesome story!" Gilbert grumbled, grabbing Francis' fork once again and started shoving down Francis' food down his throat. "Fucking Englishman wasting my time."

"Englishman? What?" The Frenchman was now glancing back and forth at his best friends, not minding the fact that Gilbert was stealing his lunch. He wasn't hungry anyway. "Am I missing something here?"

"Oh, Francis, the guy who just left the classroom." Antonio chuckled at his friend's cluelessness. "I'm surprised that you don't know him. He's another exchange student who transferred around the same time we did, but he's from England."

"Yeah, and I heard he was an uptight prick, too," Gilbert pointed out as he crossed his arms. "Wasn't he supposed to be president of student council?"

"Yeah, but," Antonio paused for a moment as he thought of his answer, "I think someone beat him to it. Alfred Jones, if I remember correctly."

Before Gilbert could make another smartass remark, Francis beat him to it and said doubtfully, "But if he transferred around the same time we did, I would've known about him."

It took some time before Antonio or Gilbert could answer Francis, until Antonio raised his tomato in the air and exclaimed "I know why!" together with the end-of-lunch bell ringing, scaring both his best friends again and acquiring another episode of half strangling, half squirming pile of foreign students on the floor.


End file.
